


Darkest Shade of Blue

by meansovermotive



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: 3 tags but just warning this is angsty, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Leda's death, Robin is an angel, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meansovermotive/pseuds/meansovermotive
Summary: In the aftermath of learning the truth about Leda’s death, Cormoran finds himself in the depths of despair.Songfic inspired by the song “Darkest Shade of Blue” by Young the Giant.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	Darkest Shade of Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> So I was listening to the title song and this idea popped in my head. Like the tags warn, it is way angstier than anything I've done 😅 so hope I managed to convey things.  
> Also just to avoid confusion - this isn't about *the truth of Leda's death*, rather the feelings in the aftermath. (More about this in the end note)
> 
> Very, very big thanks to @Flanker27_UK, who betaed this and made such great suggestions!! I learned a lot!
> 
> If you want to listen to the song, which I recommend because it is soo beautiful, I'd suggest you watch this https://youtu.be/BcZU_28g7hs because I want to live inside that video 🤣

_Lights are out, the world begins to fade  
And I want you to know  
You're not alone  
Want you to know  
You're not alone  
Anymore_

_I'm here with you  
When your hands are shaking  
I'm here with you  
And your heart is racing  
I'm here with you  
In the darkest shade of blue_

_You're not alone  
Anymore_

\--

He felt lost.

He walked the police corridors, like he had so many times before. But now everything seemed off-balance; turned into a hyper-realistic bad dream by the disorientating feeling you have when your world has crumbled and you have to watch everyone around you carrying on like nothing changed.

It was beyond disconcerting, he thought, to feel like the floor was falling out from under him but, at the same time, to sense a gravity so heavy that he might as well be wading through treacle.

He talked to the Policemen; he spoke appropriate, sensible words, that didn’t really seem to come from him. His hands were shaking, slightly, as he hid them under the table.

He listened, and one part of him held tightly to every word; another tried to forget each one of them.

When it was all over, he made the way home in a trance. Scarcely remembering unlocking the door, taking his coat off, and falling on his chair with a purpose, at last he let his control go and sobbed.

\--

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there – enough that darkness had settled in around him. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights; he just remained where he was, his gaze empty, but mind full of the wayward thoughts that crying hadn’t helped to clear.

He had lived with a horrible story for so many years, one of a lost girl who’d had her life pointlessly taken on the whims of an evil, amoral bastard.

And yet, the truth was so much worse.

The truth was not enlightening, like he had thought it would be; it was darkness - and it was a part of him, he realized; it contaminated him. He was broken, he could see, now, so clearly - how could he have thought of himself as a good man?

He, who’d had as his purpose and his pride the search for the truth, had failed spectacularly on the most important venture, the one closest to his heart. He’d been blind, ignorant, and negligent; he’d had the worst kind of blindness. He could have seen, if he had looked, but he never did; perhaps he had never wanted to.

He had been a complete and utter failure at that which he thought of as his noble purpose, at that at which he felt pride for being good, truly good.

What did that make him?

He, who had held truth and justice as his purest, highest tenets, the closest to his heart, the ones who guided him – now, now he hated the truth. He’d been burdened with the weight of its knowledge and he realized that it was, in fact, a curse.

He wished he could forget the truth.

Were he able to wash the truth away in the waters of River Lethe, he thought, he would do so in an instant - and to know this about himself hurt him almost as much as the truth had.

As for justice? Bloody justice seemed, now, a cruel joke designed with care only to dismantle his beliefs.

What remained of him, now?

Now that he knew…

He felt his grip on reality slipping away; his breath coming hard, heart pounding, hands shaking. He sank, slowly but steadily, deeper, deeper, until all that was left was darkness. He plunged into the waters of despair, inky waters the darkest shade of blue.

\--

Then, up above, a flicker of light.

“Cormoran?”

He felt her arms around him, the warmth of the sun melting ice. It calmed him slightly, it evened his breathing out, soon slow enough for him to talk.

“I’m here. I’m here. You’re not alone. It will be okay.”

He shook his head; his body trembled.

“Won’t. I didn’t—I’m not—I failed her” his voice escaped in quivering spurts, until breaking at his last words.

He felt her arms tighten around him.

“You didn’t fail her. It wasn’t your fault. You did your best. I know it. I know you.”

It wasn’t true, he knew. He felt the cold begin to envelop him again.

“No, you don’t. I’m not—I’m not who you think I am.” He paused, exhausted. He wanted her there, but he didn’t deserve it; he didn’t deserve her. “I need to be alone, Robin”.

She released him, but only enough to look straight into his eyes and shake her head.

“I’m sorry. You don’t get that now. You’re not alone anymore, Cormoran. You know that.”

“You don’t know me, Robin”, he insisted, but he knew he was already reaching for the rope she’d thrown him, like a drowning man grasps the chance of rescue.

Her fingers grazed his cheek, and her eyes were kind when she spoke next.

“I do know you, Cormoran. More than you think. You’re a good man. That’s why I love you.”

Such simple words. But her voice was the pure sincerity of someone good who knows, deep in their heart, that what they’re saying is true.

“Do you trust me?” she asked then, looking into his eyes, and at last, this answer was crystal clear.

Suddenly, he realized: He wasn’t lost, not really; there was his lifeline, his compass and north star, right in front of him.

He’d had ideas of truth, of good and justice his entire life, and he’d lived in this struggle, always reaching for them; but Robin, Robin embodied them like she saw no other possibilities, like good and kindness were her only reality.

He couldn’t really be broken, couldn’t really hate truth and justice, when he loved Robin as he did, with all his heart.

And, miracle of miracles -- she loved him, too.

Whatever he had lost, whatever he once had that he didn’t recognize in himself anymore, she still saw it there.

It was okay if he couldn’t trust himself anymore: he trusted her and that, for now, was enough.

She would guide him again towards the light; and, he promised himself then, that for her, he would swim with all his might until he reached it.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was in fact inspired by the now popular theory "Lucy did it", and obviously works for that, but I didn't feel like explicitly saying it; it can be that, or something equally as tragic.
> 
> Some things were also somewhat inspired by the book "When we were orphans", by Kazuo Ishiguro.
> 
> Also...I was really unsure, Cormoran being such a stoic character, if any of this would ring true to what his reaction would be, so I hope that it does, somewhat.


End file.
